by Hans Bezdek
Catching the bartender’s eye, she waved him over.
“What can I do for ya, love?” asked the man.
“I’m looking for someone that frequents this place, and was hoping you could tell me where they were,” explained Sloane.
“You ain’t a guard, are ya?” asked the bartender, squinting at her.
“I’m not,” she shook her head. “I just want to ask this person a few questions and I’ll be on my way.”
“Ya gotta tell me if ya are since I asked ya, ya know,” said the bartender. A dwarf near Sloane nodded in agreement.
Sloane didn’t think that was accurate. She nodded to make him feel better.
“So what’s the bloke’s name?” asked the bartender, inappropriately confident now.
“He goes by Tariq.”
The section around her grew noticeably quiet, although the rest of the tavern that couldn’t hear her kept their regular volume.
The bartender picked up a glass and started frantically cleaning it.
“Do you know where I can find him?” asked Sloane.
“Quit yer talkin, lass,” muttered the dwarf next to her. He spoke into his mug, not so much as looking at her.
“You should leave while you can,” added the bartender. “Just shut your mouth, and go.”
Sloane was getting the impression that Tariq was more dangerous than she initially guessed, but she had come too far to turn back now. “I like where I’m at well enough, thank you. Are you going to tell me where Tariq is, or not?”
“Someone say Tariq?” grunted someone behind her.
Sloane glanced back to see a large orc stomping over towards them.
“N-No, sir,” laughed the bartender nervously. “O-Of course not!”
“Actually, I said that name,” said Sloane, turning around to face the newcomer. She took the orc to be the one she was looking for.
The dwarf next to her scooted down a few seats as the orc arrived.
“What you want with... him?” grunted the orc.
“I’d like to talk with… him,” said Sloane, playing along in an attempt to make the orc more comfortable.
The orc snorted and waved her off. “You not worth his time.”
The orc started to walk away. The bartender and dwarf visibly relaxed. It looked like she was going to have to up the ante if she wanted to get information about the Lost Citadel.
“I challenge you to a test of strength!” shouted Sloane.
The whole tavern fell quiet this time. Everyone turned to see the human woman who just made a fatal mistake.
“Test of strength?” laughed the orc, turning around.
“If I win, I get to talk with Tariq,” she demanded.
“If I win?” asked the orc.
Sloane sighed. She didn’t want to offer this, but it was the only thing she could think of to put on the line. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a large purse and opened it towards the orc.
“100,000 gold.”
The tavern exploded with excited talk. The orc grinned as he stared down at the gold, taking a few steps forward.
“Deal,” smirked the orc.
Everyone in the tavern gathered as close as they could to get a glimpse of the action, leaving just a small circle for Sloane and the orc to have their contest.
“What rules of test?” asked the orc.
“First person to get to the other’s shoulders on the ground wins?” offered Sloane. “No weapons, of course.”
“Sure no weapons?” asked the orc. “Could help you…”
“I’m sure,” she nodded.
“Okay,” shrugged the orc. “Shoulders on ground to win. Ready?”
“Ready.”
The orc lunged at her, punching out with a simple cross. Sloane expected the brute to go with something so simple and ducked underneath his arm. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she tried to connect her hands behind him. Unfortunately, the orc was too wide.
Before she could back off, the orc quickly wrapped her up in a bear hug. He squeezed as hard as he could, crushing her with force.
“T-The goal is to get the opponent on their back, n-not to collapse their lungs!” grunted Sloane.
“You can’t breathe, you pass out backward,” explained the orc.
That actually wasn’t a bad strategy. Too bad she wasn’t going to let him do it.
Kicking out at hard as she could, she stomped down on the orc’s toes.
“Grah!” he shouted, letting his grasp slightly loose.
Sloane stomped on his toes again, this time pushing back with all her might. It was enough, and she escaped from his grasp.
“That hurt!” he grunted.
“Had to do what I had to do,” shrugged Sloane.
The orc charged forward, furious at her. She hopped to the right as he neared, then dove for his right knee. Grabbing ahold of it, she pulled back as hard as she could. The orc’s continued momentum worked with her, causing the creature to lose his footing.
He fell backwards but stayed propped up on his elbows.
“Shoulders not touch!” he shouted, trying to lean forward.
Before he could sit up, Sloane jumped up, then stomped down on his chest with all her might.
The orc grunted in surprise, his back pushed down to the floor from the force of Sloane.
“She did it!” roared someone nearby with laughter.
“That little girl just beat an orc!” laughed another.
The group started to disperse, some clapping while others looked disappointed.
Sloane walked off of the orc, offering a hand down to him to help him up. “I won. That means we get to talk.”
The orc slapped her hand away and got to his feet himself. He glared at her, then stormed off.
“Hey!” she shouted, chasing after him. “A deal is a deal!”
“Follow me,” he said, not bothering to look back at her. He went to a corner of the tavern that held a staircase Sloane hadn’t noticed when she walked in.
The two took it and went up, following a thin hallway towards a room in the back.
There weren’t any other rooms up there, and the place was poorly lit. The orc was muttering to himself, something about his honor being hurt.
Sloane hadn’t really considered that when she challenged him to the strength contest. Orcs were all about their honor, and any offense to it would be worth killing over. She was starting to worry that this might’ve been a trick.
The orc pounded on the door at the end of the hall as Sloane rested a hand on her hilt. She needed to be ready for anything.
A muffled voice came from the other side, and the orc opened the door.
A halfling, roughly the size of Delvin, stood in the room.
“Tariq, you got a visitor,” grunted the orc.
“What?” whispered Sloane. The orc wasn’t Tariq? The halfling was?
The halfling smiled at Sloane. “Thank you, Doluk. I’ll take it from here.”
Chapter 8
“A-Arcane Staff?!” repeated Zeke, sharing a worried look with Delvin. How could this lizardman possibly know? He had the cover on it and everything!
“W-What could this guy e-even be t-talking about?” said Delvin, laughing nervously.
“Yeah,” nodded Zeke. “You think my grandma just gave me an Arcane Staff? What… what would be the odds of that?”
“Your grandma didn’t give you that weapon,” said the lizardman.
“Y-You don’t know that!”
“Calm down,” wheezed the lizard with laughter. “Those of us in the Linsuk Resistance have heard that tale that The Elf Thief and his gnomish friend had gone after an Arcane Staff. Based off of that limited knowledge, I made a guess.”
Zeke sighed in relief. So the lizardman was with the Resistance. That could’ve gone much worse.
“Wait… so other people might be looking for a gnome and elf traveling together with a staff?” asked Delvin.
“Perhaps,” shrugged the lizard. “They wo
uld most certainly be in the Resistance, although I suppose it’s possible word had leaked out to Kutarm’s people.”
“S-So the guards in town know about us!” cried Delvin.
The lizardman glanced around and held a finger to his mouth. “Yeesh, will you settle down?”
“You’re not the one they’re after!”
“They aren’t after you,” said the lizard. “Like I said, I simply guessed. The two of you make an odd adventuring pair, but there are many strange sights in this city. Why, some might even find me odd!”
Delvin thought about it and calmed down some. Zeke thought the lizard made a good point, and it wasn’t even likely that Kutarm’s B team would be actively searching even if they knew what to look for.
“I’ve never met a lizardman before,” nodded Zeke, trying to add to the lizard’s thought.
“Well now you have,” said the chubby lizard, reaching a hand out. “The name’s Kriket. An honor to meet a legend such as yourself.”
Zeke took his hand and shook it. “You can just call me Zeke. The gnome is Delvin.”
“Kriket…” said Delvin, turning the name over in his mouth. “I’ve never heard of a name like that before. I’m not terribly familiar with your people’s naming from my studies, is yours a common one?”
Kriket shrugged and patted his protruding belly. “No clue. I just really like to eat crickets.”
“Fair enough,” said Delvin, not sounding particularly pleased with that answer.
Zeke wasn’t paying much attention to their discussion on naming conventions, he was too excited to have met someone in the Resistance in a city that welcomes Kutarm. That surely meant there were others here, and they weren’t all going to accept his rule. There must be some sort of uprising being planned.
“So, Kriket,” said Zeke, leaning in. “What’s the plan?”
“The plan?” asked the lizard, squinting an eye in confusion. “For what? Dinner? I guess I haven’t really thought about it…”
“No, I mean what’s the Resistance’s plan here in Newbridge!”
Kriket looked at Delvin for clarification.
“We were at Nurem when they expelled Kutarm’s men,” explained the gnome. “We were just in Tunil and helped them do the same there as well. I assume Zeke is asking what your plan is for overthrowing the guards.”
“There is no plan,” said the lizard, shaking his head.
Zeke frowned, but then took a different tactic. “Ah, you were just waiting for someone like me to come and help organize the fight. That way morale could be boosted, I get it. I’ve got to say I’m honored, and-”
“No, you don’t understand,” said Kriket, cutting the elf off. “While I’m happy for Nurem and, frankly, surprised by the news you bring of Tunil, the same can’t be done here.”
“I don’t think you understand the disparity in the kinds of guards you have here with the ones that were in the other towns,” said Zeke, glancing around for an example.
“It’s not that,” said the lizard. “If we actually organized well enough to try something, large parts of the city would align themselves with Kutarm’s men. We’d end up fighting our own people, and we have no desire to do that.”
“But how can the people be so willing to work with Kutarm?” asked Zeke. “Don’t they know about all the evil creatures he is working with?”
“We didn’t know for sure until recently,” pointed out Delvin. “There have been a lot of rumors, but people are always spreading fake things about their rivals.”
“It’s as your friend says,” nodded Kriket. “The people here don’t believe those rumors. No one has ever seen a demon or anything of the sort, so they doubt that Kutarm would do such a thing. Even his men treat the town well for the most part.”
“So there’s nothing the Resistance here can do, then?” asked Zeke. “You’re all going to sit around and just let Kutarm have control of Newbridge.”
“For now,” conceded Kriket. “However, we believe that once Lord Kutarm is defeated, his forces will pull out and return to their old territory. They won’t have someone bankrolling them anymore, so there would be no reason for them to stay. Once the city goes back to the way it was, the Resistance can try and gain political power back. Even now, several of the politicians are part of the Linsuk Resistance in secret, just waiting to rise when the time comes.”
“Sounds boring,” yawned Zeke. He didn’t have any patience for that sort of thing. Why sit around and wait?
“Not all battles require open combat,” said Kriket.
“This one does,” said Zeke. “You just said Lord Kutarm needs to be defeated before any of you could expose yourselves as being with the Resistance. You’re just waiting for someone else to do the work for you.”
“I was describing why there wasn’t a plan in place to overthrow the government,” said the lizard, a slight edge to his voice. “While there are those that wish to sit on their hands and wait for others to do the dirty work, I’m not one of them.”
“What do you have in mind?” asked Delvin.
“I’m going down with some of the others to help out at Burston,” said Kriket, sucking his stomach in a bit as he stood straighter.
Zeke had heard of Burston before. It was one of the major cities in the southern lands, which probably wasn’t that far from Newbridge.
“What’s happening in Burston?” asked Zeke. “The last I heard of it, they weren’t under Kutarm’s control. Has that changed?”
“Not yet, but Kutarm’s trying to fix that. The city is under siege, and if they don’t get some help soon they’ll probably lose.”
“How many are going down to help out?” asked Delvin. “You’ll need more than a handful if you plan on being much help.”
“There are a couple hundred of us…” said Kriket slowly, turning an eye towards Zeke. “Although I might be able to convince a few more if I was able to tell them The Elf Thief was going to be helping us, and with an Arcane Staff no less.”
“Zeke,” corrected the elf.
“I think your other title is a bit more influential, but I can add in your real name, too, if you’d like,” said Kriket.
“I’ve been thinking it’s time to do away with my old title,” said Zeke.
“I will start telling the others to start heading for Burston,” said Kriket. “It’s best if not everyone leaves at once. The guards here are lazy, but even they will realize something is going on if a few hundred people filter out of the city all at the same time.”
“Make sense,” nodded Zeke.
“If you and your friends are willing, we’d love to have you join us,” said Kriket, smiling back and forth between Zeke and Delvin. “I will be leaving with a small group tomorrow morning. We’ll be the last ones to go, so it’ll be then or never. After that, we won’t be able to stop, even for The Elf Th…. even for Zeke.”
Zeke smiled. He liked hearing his name over the false title of The Elf Thief. He was going to have to ditch that name sooner or later, so why not make it sooner?
Before he could tell the lizardman that he was in, Delvin pulled on his arm and turned him around.
“What’s up?” asked Zeke.
“I don’t think we should answer now,” whispered Delvin.
“Why not? The people of Burston could use our help. Seems pretty clear cut to me.”
“We should really talk to Sloane about this first,” cautioned Delvin. “She might have other ideas, and her lead might pan out.”
“Come on, Delvin,” sighed Zeke. “We both know her lead won’t turn into anything. This search for the Lost Citadel is just a wild goose chase. I’m starting to wonder if the place even exists, let alone if we’ll somehow be the ones to find it.”
It pained him to say it, but they all knew it was true deep down. He wasn’t sure what she was hoping would be in the Lost Citadel, but it was looking like they’d never find it. The sooner they all realize this, the better it would be for all of them.
“What�
��s going on at Burston is real, and it’s happening now,” continued Zeke. “I can do something about it. We can do something about it.”
Delvin seemed conflicted. “I… I just think discussing this with Sloane first is a better decision.”
“She’ll come with us, I guarantee it,” smiled Zeke, turning back to Kriket. She had yielded to him after the battle of Nurem, so he was sure she’d do it again.
“Should I save a spot for you on our caravan tomorrow?” asked the hopeful lizardman.
“Definitely,” nodded Zeke. “We’ll be there no matter what.”
Chapter 9
The orc nudged Sloane into the room, then closed the door behind her.
Sloane quickly took the room in, mindful that things could turn sour at a moment’s notice. There were two windows, each on the other side of the room. There was a board off to her left with dozens of papers pinned to it, along with some colored strings pointing between them. A bed with blue and purple silk sheets was off to her left, along with a rack filled with bottles of wine.
No one else was in the room besides the halfling, who was wearing dressed in expensive looking black leather. The halfling had his brown hair slicked back, his matching eyes shining up at her.
“You look surprised,” said the halfling.
“I… I kind of assumed the orc was Tariq,” she explained, hand still resting on her hilt.
“He gets that a lot,” he snickered. “I rarely correct that impression. The escapades connected with my name seem to fit someone of a larger stature.”
‘Crimes’ was a better word than ‘escapades’, but Sloane knew better than to correct him. Tariq was connected with nearly a hundred cases dealing with theft, kidnapping, and murder. No one Sloane had talked to knew what he looked like, and would therefore only speak his name in a whisper in case he was nearby. While his crimes didn’t exactly point to him being the most likely person to know the whereabouts of the Lost Citadel, he had supposedly stolen a few ancient maps that pointed the way.
“I must say I was impressed with your performance against my bodyguard,” said Tariq.
“You watched?”